


It All Starts With A Scar

by mysteekmeg



Series: To Fall and Fly Again [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Angst, Angst and Humor, Comfort Sex, Comforting Dean, F/M, Fallen Castiel, Hurt Castiel, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Plot, Romance, Sexual Content, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 02:43:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1064802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysteekmeg/pseuds/mysteekmeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean hadn't been back to his, grave, since he crawled out of it. The thought, almost terrified, who was he kidding, it did terrify him. He could remember everything, how confined, cold, dark it had been. His knuckles grating over the wood, splinters stabbing into his hands as he scratched, punched, screamed for his release out of that box.</p>
<p>He never thought returning to that spot, under the moonlight, would unleash so many secrets, lies, blood and pain. Someone so fallen, they'd completely lost themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Falling Is Only The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first fic in, probably four years. It's been a while, and I know I haven't got nearly as much talent as I did before. But, I'm giving it a shot and trying to find my way back in to writing. I'm not sure where this is going, the first chapter just came to me and I needed to write it.
> 
> This won't be following the series of Supernatural, maybe scenes and characters, but other than that, it's going.. God knows where, but there will be Destiel! If it sucks, tell me, this is following more of a story-line than just pure smut and sex. Which is very different for me, but four years out of it, something different is good, sometimes. The next chapter might just be Dean or Castiel's POV. I might follow it that way, but we'll see.
> 
> I also wasn't sure what state it was Dean was buried, I'm not sure if I got that correct.

Dean grinned as he fell back onto the old sofa he'd come to enjoy so much, sure it squeaked whenever you moved an inch, had an old musky smell, along with some whiskey that had been spilt on it over the years. But you couldn't ask for more when you'd had to deal with the conditions in the motels they had stayed in. A small luxury you learnt to appreciate. Putting his feet up on the small table in front, not lasting a mere few seconds there before Bobby swatted at them with his hand, knocking them back onto the floor with a mutter of 'idjit' as he wandered back out of the room. Just the norm in the Singer household. Bringing the bottle up to his lips, he took a small swig and felt himself relax back into the sofa, almost moulding to it.

They'd been on the road for a few weeks, him and Sam. They were finally back whilst they looked for more jobs, well he said they, Sam and Bobby. Whilst he relaxed and added a few words if they spoke to him, not that he ever had much to ass, unless it was important.

"Have you heard from Cas?" Sam muttered, hunched over the kitchen table behind him, laptop in view as he tapped away on the keyboard, swiping his hair from his eyes from the umpteenth time. His hair was at that length where he couldn't tuck it back, and it annoyed him and Dean as he constantly fidgeted with his hair. Scratching the side of his nose with his long finger, his eyes not moving from the screen. "So, have you?"

Dean put his arm back over the sofa, shifting onto his side a slightly to look back at his brother. "Sam, don't you think I would have mentioned if I had?" He asked with a slightly raised eyebrow before having another swig of his beer. "I haven't heard from our little trenchcoat Angel, it's been a while actually." He said as he thought about it, they hadn't heard or seen Cas in, weeks. Maybe even, over a month. He could feel the unease in his body as he thought more into it, looking down at the sofa. His head snapping up as he heard Sam.

Sam looked up from the laptop, picking up his own beer and stopped just before he had a swig, watching his brother closely. "Dean," He started and gave his brother a soft smile. "I'm sure Cas is alright, this is Cas. He's probably busy, alright?" His brother said, trying to reassure him before he thought too much in to it. Sam knew what his brother could get like, he was a protector and he constantly worried about the ones he loved. He felt as if he was the one that had to say everyone, protect them but he never accepted help himself, not willingly anyway.

"Yeah, yeah. I know Dude, you're right. This is Cas!" Dean said with a light chuckle and pushed himself up from the sofa with one hand, the other still clinging onto the beer and moved over to the old dusty television. "Damn, TV." He muttered as he smacked the side of it, watching the picture starting to slowly come back from behind the static, grinning at his 'expertise' as he liked to call it. 

"Boy, you break my TV and I'll break your damn head, ya Idjit." Bobby scowled as he dropped the books down onto the desk with a heavy slap against the wood. "So boys, I think I may have gotten you some work. Sorry to break your little holiday up." He said in his usual gruff sarcastic tone as he scratched at his beard with his grease stained fingers.

"Casa de Singer! And what a three day holiday it was Bobby. Watcha got for us then?" Dean said, sounding more excited than he should be. But he was happy, maybe happy wasn't the right word. But they needed a job, he'd spent the first day fixing up his Baby after the exhaust started to sound like a smokers cough. But two days, doing nothing, as nice as it was, they needed to get moving.

Bobby grunted a little, giving Dean a look before leaning back in his chair. Sam making his way from the table and over to the desk, standing next to Dean. "Well I just got off the phone with a Hunter, he's given me some information but the most interesting one l got, and you're not gonna like this Dean. Pontiac, Illinois." He grumbled out, looking up at the brothers from under his dirty and ripped cap. "Right up on route fifty-five."

Dean went to say something but just paused, clearing his throat and looked at Sam as he felt his hand on his shoulder, he should have laughed, his sasquatch hand was right on the mark Castiel had left him with. "Guys, I'm cool. Not a lot of people can visit their own grave, _right?_ " He asked with a light chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. "I'm fine, really." Dean insisted as he looked at them both. 

Bobby gave looked at the two of them before letting out a sigh, as he did when he worried about the two of them. "Alright," He mumbled, going back to the point on hand.

\-------------------------------------------------

Dean tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as he drove down the dark road, his head nodding to the music. "Smashing through the boundaries, lunacy has found me." He mumbled along, Metallica on the road, you could never get tired of it that was for sure. After Bobby had given them the information, they weren't certain of what could be in the town. A number of things. From what seemed like possessions, missing people, dying crops. The whole nine-yards. Something interesting was going on though, that was for sure.

Seeing the sign post, his lights reflections off it and glanced over to Sam, his head leaning against the window, a soft snore escaping his lips. He knew Sam wasn't waking up any time soon. Dean found himself chewing softly on his bottom lip with his teeth, he could feel the knot in his stomach growing tighter the closer they got. He almost felt sick, but he swallowed it back. Dean hadn't been back to his, grave since he crawled out of it. The thought, almost terrified, who was he kidding, it did terrify him. He could remember everything, how confined, cold, dark it had been. His knuckles grating over the wood, splinters stabbing into his hands as he scratched, punched, screamed for his release out of that box. The relief as he took in that first gulp of fresh cool air, and the terror he felt when he realized just what he had done, he'd crawled out of his own god damn _grave_.

Taking in a deep, shaking breath as he bought himself out of his thoughts and memories. He slowed the car down, turning onto the dirt road and stopped half a mile up. Looking out of the window over to the tree, he glanced back at Sam before quietly getting out of the Impala. His boots crunching on the dried out leaves beneath them as he moved closer and stopped a few footsteps away, grass had still not grown fully over the dirt. "Shit." He whispered through his tight lips, turning around to walk back to the car but something stopped him, he wasn't sure what. Curiosity, the need for closure, or maybe something stronger. Rubbing his hand over his day old stubble, he turned back around and took two more steps closer.

Stopping just as the grass thinned out, he looked down at the dirt and took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. His hands shoved into his jeans pockets, just staring. He didn't know why he did this, he wasn't sure if it was even helping. But as soon as Bobby mentioned it, he knew there was no way that he couldn't come here. Slowly dropping down onto his knees, he sat back on his legs and pulled his hands out of his pockets. He could hear the leaves rustling above him in the light breeze, looking up at the moonlight peaking through the gaps as the branches lightly swayed. "Shit." He found himself saying again. "Get it together Dean." He muttered to himself, looking back down into the dirt. It was odd, this one patch that was still dirt, why hadn't the grass grown back already? All around the grass was full, thick and long. But this one patch.

Placing his hand on the light dirt, he quickly snapped it back as his eyes widened. The ground was scorching, he felt like he'd put his hand on burning coals not what should be, cool light, dusty dirt. "What the.." He found himself trailing off, a tremble startling him, he felt it on his knees, like something was trying to... crawl out, again. The ground breaking up, moving like it had a heart beat, rising and falling underneath him. "Sam!" Dean called, not sure it was even loud enough and fell back onto his ass as he felt the heat coming through his jeans, "Ah, fuck!" He cursed, looking down at his singed jeans over the knees and quickly tried to scramble back away as the ground moved up higher, his fingers digging into the ground and clutched at the grass. "Sammy!" Dean yelled this time.

Sam jumped up with a snore as something woke him, groaning and let his head rest back against the cool window, knowing Dean was going to kill him for leaving a mark but, he was just so damn tired right now. "Lemme sleep." He murmured, letting out a long yawn. Opening his eyes a little, looking over to the drivers side and quickly sat up as Dean was, nowhere to be seen. "Dean?" Sam said, quickly scrambling out of the car and stopped, even in the dark, barely being able to see anything he knew where he was. He'd never forget this place, not in a million years. "Dean!" He shouted into the night and slammed the door shut as he ran up onto the grass, using the tree to guide him. "Ah, fuck!" Sam yelped as his feet caught something, his body hitting the ground with an audible thump, his face connecting with the hard ground a second later and let out a low groan.

Dean looked up as he heard his brothers loud footsteps running toward him. "Sam.." He trailed off and let out a small grunt as he was ran over, grabbing the back of Sam's shirt and pulled him up next to him. "Sam, we gotta get back to the car, we gotta get out of here, I can't.." Dean stopped as he looked back over to the grave, it had stopped moving, for how long he wasn't too sure.  
Sam let his brother pull him up, looking over to him and felt himself frowning. "Dean, what are you doing out here!" He said angrily, "I thought.. Dammit, Dean. You scared me half to death!" Sam said and pulled his fist back before punching his brother hard in the chest before pushing himself up onto his feet, brushing his jeans and hoodie down, noting the grass stains. "What freaked you out so much?" He asked more calmly now and gave his brother a worried look, this was never good. Dean was never good with facing the past, never. It weakened him, and pulled him to pieces, he should have stayed awake.

Rubbing his chest, he gave his brother a glare. "I didn't freak out, Sam. The fucking grave, it was moving! It was moving, like something was... Like something was trying to come out." He said, his voice breaking ever so slightly and then rolled his eyes, knowing how post dramatic stressed like he sounded. "Don't!" Dean said, holding his hand up as Sam went to say something. "Just, don't." He muttered and got up from the ground, cautiously walking closer to the grave. "Look, the dirt, it's not settled, it was moving Sam. I swear."

"Alright, alright. I believe you, Dean." Sam said with a sigh, and he did, he did believe his brother thought he saw that. "But it's dark, there's shadows from the tree, it might have just been..." He stopped and looked at his brother, giving him a sympathetic smile.

Dean just shook his head as he heard his brother, "I know what I saw." He said angrily and leaned down, grabbing a fistful of disrupted earth and let it slip between his fingers, looking back at his brother. "It was moving." He said again, trying to make him believe that. He froze, as he felt the ground rumbling again beneath his feet, the spray of dirt, stones and dead leaves bouncing off his clothes and the side of his face, he felt something tightly wrap around his wrist.

Slowly looking back at the grave, he could have screamed as he saw the dirt covered hand holding his wrist tightly, an arm piercing through the dirt. But Dean didn't scream, he'd seen so much shit that, it just wasn't his reaction. "Oh, holy fucking shit!" He shouted, falling again back onto his ass and tried to get the grip off whoever fucking hand that was off him, but it was vice like and there was no letting go. Hissing loudly, his skin on fire where the hand gripped him, pulling harder as his brother skidded down next to him, trying to help but to no avail.

"Sam, it's Cas!" Dean said in utter disbelief as he stared at the sleeve, it was his trench-coat, his brown, horrible trench coat. With the mention of his name, the hand quickly released his arm but not for long as both brothers grabbed his arm and shoulder, using all of their strength as they slowly pulled him up out of the dirt. It seemed like a nightmare, dragging their friend, their Angel out from Dean's grave. His heavy body struggling through the hard, heavy dirt as they desperately pulled him up.

"Cas! Cas!" Sam breathed in relief as his head finally surfaced and he took in a long, dry and desperate breath. It took a few more minutes, but finally they had both managed to pull him free from Dean's former grave, the Angel a dirty, panting mess as he laid weakly on the ground, his face against the cool grass as his legs hung over the new hole in the ground.

Dean had his hands on Castiel's back, he could still feel the heat coming off his body, trying to soothe him, what else could he do right now. His head was full of so many questions, so much.. He just couldn't focus, think and looked over to his brother who was sitting opposite him, looking just as wide-eyed and confused as himself. "What the fuck." He breathed out, the only words he could think of saying right now. Castiel's body cooled down, the heat almost disappearing in a few seconds, almost like all of his power, his energy, his _grace_ had seeped out into the earth he'd just been dragged out of.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent today reading my old fanfictions from, 5 years ago. I didn't realize it had been so long. I was much better back then it seems.  
> Thank you to the people that took the time to read this, I'm really hoping my writing progresses through this. I have to get my 'fingers' back so to speak. I'm sitting here at 1am, chain smoking as I try to write after a long day at work. I apologize for any mistakes. And I'm English, very English, I'm trying not to let that show through my writing!

" _Don't.. P-Please.. I.. Don't.. I can't.. Don't.. Don't.._ "

Along with the humming of the Impala's engine, occasional cars passing, the car was filled with Castiel's quiet gasps of desperate words, whimpers and pleas, to who the two brothers didn't know. The Angel had been drifting in and out of consciousness, his words, mixed sentences making no sense as he laid in the back seat, curled in a foetal position as his arms clutched around his knees, drawing them up hard and close to his chest. His chest which was rising and falling erratically with the panic that coursed through him.

" _Father.. F-Forgive me..._ "

The two men at the front of the car were sat in silence, listening to his pleas. Speechless.

They'd wasted no time getting the Angel in the back of the car, speeding down the highway trying to find the nearest motel. There was no getting through to Castiel, they had both tried, but it was useless. Getting through to Castiel was impossible, they had so many questions, but they knew not to expect answers. Their main concern right now, was getting somewhere safe to try and coax the Angel out of his panicked state.

"Dean.." Sam said softly, looking over to his brother.

Dean didn't say a word, his eyes on the road as he picked up speed.

\-------------------------------

Half an hour down the quiet road, they reached the motel just as the sun started to illuminate the sky. Sam had been the first to jump out, going to get them all a room as Dean sat turned in his seat, a hand resting on the shaking Angel's back, trying to sooth him but to no avail. "Cas, what happened to you." He whispered softly to himself, to see Castiel like this, scared, no, terrified Dean. Terrified him of what happened to him, and the possibility of what was going to happen next.

An arm round each of their shoulders, the brothers slowly walked with Castiel in-between them both, holding up his weight as his shoes scraped along the cement of the parking lot. The unconscious man's head falling onto Dean's shoulder. " _Don't.. Forgive me.._ " He whispered desperately, his voice breaking with the words, dry and frightened. 

Without another word from either of them, they moved into the small motel room. Two double beds, a sofa and a small coffee table with a TV. The most you'd expect from a cheap and quiet Motel. It's all they needed, for now. Dean had sent Sam out to get water, a lot of water. They only had two bottles between all of them and if he had any experience, the some he had knew Cas would be dehydrated, he'd lost count of of many bottles he'd gone through when he'd reached that small store.. The first time he'd heard Catiel, the deafening screech, shattering glass. Dean felt himsel shiver at the memory, there was no time for this. Cas. _Cas_ , was what mattered right now.

\------------------------------

"Dean, what.. I don't even know what to say, or ask right now." Sam said quietly as he sat at the small table, his elbow resting on the table as his hand cradled his heavy head. They'd been here for hours now, after getting a bottle of water down Castiels throat, a lot of it being spat out as he choked or ran off his tightly closed lips, the Angel went back to his desperate pleas. That only lasted half hour before he was our, not a sound expect for his heavy and hard breathing, like he was struggling, and Dean knew he probably was, just like he had.

A small sigh escaping his lips as he sat on the edge of the bed next to Castiels, he gave his brother a completely helpless look. "We can't do anything, we just have to look after Cas. I'm in the same boat as you, Sammy." He said quietly and looked at the clock, the sound of its ticks filling the room again as they watched more time pass.

\------------------------------

Sam was asleep on the small couch, his long jeans clad legs hanging over the arm as his head rested on his jacket folded into a makeshift pillow. Picking up the thin duvet from the unused bed, he carefully draped it over his younger brother, watching as he shifted and let out a soft huff. Making sure he was still asleep before moving into the small, dull lit bathroom. He'd found a small plastic bowl, filling it with warm soapy water and picked up some tissue, a cloth would have been preferred but in a place like this, it wouldn't have been hygienic to say the least. Moving silently back out to the room and over to the Angel's bed, he set the bowl down on the floor with the tissue before softly pulling the Angel's arm out from the dirty trench-coat, one arm free he worked on the next. Softly rolling him onto his side, he managed to get his other arm free before carefully slipping it out from under Castiel, putting it down on the floor at the bottom of the bed.

His shirt was creased, torn in a few places and stained with dirt. Moving closer to examine it, he moved it fingers over the singed fabric that lay over his chest, the skin beneath it covered with a light dust of hair, but no burns. No marks. Nothing. Just healthy flesh.

Softly rolling Castiel onto his back again, a soft groan being released from those full, dry lips but he remained asleep. Obviously exhausted. Dean let out a small sigh in relief as he didn't wake up, he'd let Cas continue to sleep, let him have his escape from reality for the moment.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Dean shucked off his own jacket and let it lie on the floor before pushing up his sleeves along his arms. Picking up the bowl, he let it rest on his lap as he rolled up some tissue in his hand, dipping it into the water and squeezed it gently in his hands so there was no excess water. Looking down at Castiel, he softly ran the tissue over his cheek, a line of clear, pale flesh was unveiled under the dirt that tanned his skin.

Slowly making word of his face, Dean put the wet tissues down on the table that was next to the bed and looked down at Cas. He looked more, human, that wasn't the right word... But he looked more like Cas now. More like the Angel he knew, but not quite, he was vulnerable. Scared. Of what, Dean did not know.

\----------------------------

His head falling back against the bed was enough to stir Dean out of his sleep, again. He sat by the bedside, his ass and legs were numb, and his back had a fiery ache. He hadn't moved from his spot in, _fuck, three hours._ Hunching forward, he moved his hand to his back as he rolled his neck and stretched out his legs, which were throbbing with pins and needles. Letting out a long breath, he was startled as he felt something drop onto his shoulder, like dead weight. Turning his head, he let out another long loud breath as he was met with a bright blue gaze and felt a soft smile adorn his lips. "Cas." He whispered as he felt the Angel's hand try to desperately grab his shoulder but he was still too weak. "Hey, it's alright. Lets get you some more water whilst you're with us."

Getting up from the floor, he rustled through the plastic bag on the table and pulled out a bottle of water, moving back over to the bed in two long strides. "Do you want to sit up?" He asked quietly, his hands hesitating as he went to help him, waiting for an answer which was met, which a small weak nod. "Ok, here we go." Dean said, first placing the pillow up against the headboard before moving his hands to Cas' waist, which slipped up to under his arms pits as he tried to carefully hoist him up. Finally getting him up and against the pillow.

"Dean." Castiel managed to gasp out, his throat burned, felt like he'd screamed for an eternity. Sharp pain coursed down it and he winced, almost scared to speak again.

"Shh, it's alright man. You don't need to say anything right now, just drink." He said as he unscrewed the plastic cap from the bottle and moved onto the edge of the bed next to the man, the man he'd never seen so weak before. So _needy_. There wasn't another word Dean could think of right now. Softly pressing the lip of the bottle to those dry lips, he started to slowly tilt it as the Angel drank the liquid down greedily, he didn't stop until half of the litre bottle was gone.

"There you go." Dean praised, it felt odd as the words slipped out of his mouth. Praising something so powerful, _someone_ so powerful, who had saved his life and his brothers more times than they had lost theirs. And that was including the mystery spot.

Gasping as he finally pulled away from the bottle, the water soothed his raw throat as his head fell back against the wall with an audible thud, the pain quickly vanishing and licked his dry lips before they split. He felt so much, hurt, so much pain. There was a loud rumble that echoed through the room, and even startled Dean. He was _hungry_.


End file.
